Fall Away
by jhart09
Summary: Shows how the bohemians all met. Mainly focusing on Roger, Mark, Maureen, April and Collins. A sort of prequel to 'Someday We'll Know'. Starts with Maureen moving into the loft up until just after April's suicide.
1. Right In Front of You

This is my first fic in a while, but I was inspired the other day. A lot of things in this fic will allude to my last fic "Someday We'll Know', but you don't have to read that one to understand what goes on.

April 12, 1987

Roger scrubbed the shampoo into his hair, digging his too long nails through the bleached tendrils. He dropped his head back and let the water run down his neck and chest, thinking about how his Chinese food would be coming soon. For once, Roger found himself in the loft alone, a rare occurrence.

Mark must've been out filming for his latest documentary, Collins was off molding the minds at NYU and Benny was- well who knows where Benny was these days. Roger smiled to himself, eyes still pressed shut. He loved taking a long shower, with no interruptions, before a late night gig. He'd shower, get his take out and warm up his Fender on the kitchen table while spooning noodles into his mouth.

His concentration was broken when he heard a knock at the door. _Damn, the Chinese_ he thought while quickly drying himself and wrapping a towel around his waist, dabbing his dripping hair with a face cloth.

Shuffling across the loft in his bare feet with a ten dollar bill between his teeth, Roger swung the front door opened, leaning against the frame. There stood a girl, a quite attractive girl in fact. Roger noticed that she was certainly not the Chinese delivery boy.

"Hi, I'm looking for Roger Davis," the brunette squeaked out quietly, looking between the half naked man in front of her and a piece of paper. Her hands rested on her hips and she hadn't yet has the chance to meet his eyes. For some reason Roger felt nearly intimidated by her, which was even rarer than the loft being empty.

The sides of his lips curled up into a devilish grin. "You found him." The girl, who looked around his age smiled, and he noticed her quickly glance over his damp chest and arms. She smiled again, and it was only then when he noticed the two suitcases that were resting at her sides.

"I think I'm your new roommate," she said tentatively, "Professor Collins said 11th and Avenue B?"

Roger laughed a little, "You must be Mo. Collins didn't tell me you were," he paused choking back a laugh, "well, a girl. Come in. Shit. Why don't I go get dressed and give you the grand tour?"

_I could get used to this_, Maureen thought as Roger winked at her and picked up her suitcase from her feet. He dropped her things over by the couch, which was held together by duct tape, and ran to his room, leaving the door conveniently half opened.

Roger looked quickly over his shoulder as he strategically dropped the towel just so the girl sitting on his couch would get a glimpse at his naked backside. _She definitely looked_, Roger thought, a toothy grin covering his face.

_Shit, he caught me looking_, Maureen said to herself. She turned her attention to her nails and picked at the skin, looking at her chipped nail polish. Minutes later, Roger returned, clad in a pair of red plaid pants and a black sleeveless tank top. Maureen looked up and met his eyes for the first time. _Yes_, she thought again, _I guess I could live with this._

"Well, this is our lovely living room slash kitchen," Roger narrated in a cheesy British accent, "and over here we have Mark and Collins' rooms. Um, I set you up with Mark thinking you were a dude, so you can camp out in there tonight." He saw her shift on her feet and spoke again. "But we can switch tomorrow. I mean if you want to." Why was he nervous around her? She had barely spoken to him.

"No, no that's fine," Maureen said, bringing her hands up in protest, "from what Collins told me, Mark's not the one I have to worry about." She turned around and winked at Roger before closing the door behind her and retreating to her new bedroom.

Roger turned back around, confused, and picked up his Fender from the couch. He had more important things to worry about than some girl. He had plenty, and in fact, he was sure he'd have a new girl to occupy him in several hours.

As usual, his gig had gone well. Roger jumped off the stage and headed towards the bar, glancing at his watch. 1:23 am. He still had a little time. The bartender pulled out a beer and slid it to him, signaling that it was on the house, payment for a job well done. Roger's attention was now focused on the small brunette bobbing her head to the sound of the music in the bar.

An hour later, this girl was conveniently perched between Roger's legs as he sat on a stool. She faced him, playing with the chain on his leather jacket. He signaled for the door, and she pulled him up from his seat, leading Roger outside.

He hurried with her up the staircase, fumbling with his keys as he tried to let himself in the loft while balancing the girl and his guitar. Laughing and stumbling on the landing, the girl wrapped her arms around him from behind, placing wet, warm kisses down the back of his neck.

Maureen shifted in her bed and looked next to her at Mark, who was sleeping peacefully. She heard the sound of two shuffling feet, the jiggling of keys being thrown, and the laughing of the same pair. Roger. Maureen leaned over, peering out the opened door, just in time to see Roger pinning an unknown girl to the wall outside his bedroom. _Some great first night_, she thought as she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.

"You get used to it," Maureen heard murmured from the other side of the room. "Soon you won't even wake up." Mark rolled back over, throwing his pillow over his head, trying to ignore the sounds of Roger's squeaky mattress.

"He does this a lot?" she asked, rolling back over to face Mark. He couldn't tell if her tone was annoyed or disappointed. Of course, Mark figured, she was jealous. Everyone wanted Roger.

"It would fit the rock star image, huh?" he said sarcastically, stifling a laugh from beneath his pillow.

"Mm," Maureen whispered, drifting back to sleep, "Night Mark."

Mark smiled and looked back over at Maureen who had just fallen back asleep. There was no denying her beauty. "Night M'reen." _Yes,_ Mark thought, _I think I might be able to live with this._

Please review and let me know what you think or if you want me to continue…They keep me writing quicker..


	2. Over My Head

Disclaimer: I don't own RENT or any of the characters.

May 13, 1987

One Month. It had been thirty days since Maureen had joined the boys in the loft. That meant six dates for Collins, thirteen new girls for Roger, eight reels of film for Mark, and twenty four dinners thrown up for Maureen. Not to mention two moving trucks for Benny, who had just moved in with his now fiancée Alison Grey.

Roger emerged from his room, rubbing his bleached blonde hair, and joined Maureen at the table. "Cap n' Crunch?" she mumbled from behind her paper, putting the box in front of him. He took a handful and chomped a few bites before turning back to her.

"You like going out, right Mo?" Roger asked timidly.

"Yeah," she said quickly, her mouth still half full.

"You should come to my gig tonight with Mark and Collins and" Maureen was cut off when Roger's bedroom door swung open, revealing a disheveled red head in a short black leather skirt and skimpy tank top.

_Fourteen girls for Roger_, Maureen laughed to herself.

"Oh." Roger quickly ran up to her and kissed her on the cheek, "Bye babe. See you." The read head was just about out the door when she turned at the sound of her name.

"April?" It was Maureen who spoke.

"Reeny?" The redhead, April, rushed over to Maureen and wrapped her arms around her tightly. Both girls laughed and continued their hug before breaking apart and staring at a very confused Roger.

"You two know each other?" Roger laughed nervously, stumbling over his words. The two girls nodded and continued giggling to each other, while Roger, still stunned, made his way back to his room.

Nearly half an hour later, Maureen slipped through his door smiling. "What's so funny? This isn't funny, Mo."

"Oh, Rog, it's plenty funny. April was my roommate freshman year at NYU," Maureen said laughing and sitting next to him on the bed. "I guess she dropped out last year though. Turned into some groupie or something." Maureen snickered as Roger swatted her away. She got up, still laughing, before he got a change to interrupt her.

"So," he paused, "Tonight, you'll come with Mark and Collins, right?"

"Yeah," she said peeking her head back through the door, "Oh and Rog," she added, "I invited April to come along." Roger groaned and leaned back onto his bed, as Maureen smiled wickedly and shut the door behind her.

At the club that night, Mark and Maureen sat on the stools while Collins went over and talked with another NYU professor that he recognized. Naturally, Maureen flirted with Mark, who allowed her to fawn over him and sit in his lap before the show started.

April had disappeared into a back room earlier with a few friends to "catch up". Maureen squealed as Roger stepped out from behind the curtain to set his Fender down on the stand. She noted that he look much different than when she usually saw him first thing in the morning.

His bleached hair was spiked up and he had a thick, fresh layer of eyeliner around his green eyes. He wore a black tank top with black leather pants with a long chain. Mark noticed her eyeing him and spoke into her ear while squeezing her waist. "You know he wouldn't treat you right?"

She turned to face him and raised an eyebrow, "And why would you care, roomie?"

"Because you deserve better than that," Mark said nervously, turning his head away from Maureen. She lifted his chin and gave him a quick peck on the lips and smiled.

April never did come out of the room for Roger's gig. Collins made his way back over to Mark and Maureen, handing Maureen another beer from the bar, which she gladly accepted.

"Didn't think I'd ever get to drink with one of my professors," she joked, nudging Collins.

"Hey, I'm not your professor anymore anyways. Besides, cut it out. Makes me feel old," he laughed and brought Maureen into a hug.

Maureen sat back down on Mark's knee as Roger came out and tuned his guitar to quiet the rowdy audience. Both men noticed that Maureen's eyes didn't leave Roger once during the hour long set.

"This is gonna be trouble," Collins mumbled to Mark, knowing how Mark had felt about Maureen since the first day she had moved in. Maureen's face dropped when she saw Roger retreat into the back room after the show instead of joining them at the bar.

"Don't worry," Mark said reading her mind, "He always comes out. The groupies are back there and he's such a diva that he'll want to make a grand entrance." The three laughed and continued to drink, saying that they were 'with the band'.

It was only shortly after, when the crowd had cooled down, that Roger came back out to sit at the bar with his friends, as promised. "Where's April?" he asked, looking at Maureen.

"I don't know. She left I guess." His face wasn't disappointed, but it wasn't happy either.

"What, Roger? You actually liked her enough to keep her around for more than one night?" Collins laughed, pushing a drink into his hand.

Roger took a long gulp before shoving him into the bar playfully. "Hey, just wanted to know," he said laughing.

It was nearly three in the morning when Mark looked at his watch and yawned. "I think we should head back."

"Yeah," Collins slumped over the barstool, "I got a class at 11." He yawned and put a shoulder around Roger. "Come on boy."

Roger pushed him away. "I was actually gonna stick around here for a while. Go play for a while in the back with the guys, have a few drinks." Collins shot him a knowing look. "Come on guys, stay a while," Roger urged as both Mark and Collins shook their heads. "Mo, you in?"

Mark's eyes pleaded with her to say no, and he watched as she latched onto his arm and smiled. "Yesss," he stuck in tongue out at the boys, "Snooze you lose, bitches. We're gonna go have ourselves a party."

He said it proudly, wrapping his arm around Maureen. Collins saw her eyes light up, but also knew Roger, who had no idea what was on her mind. He had always thought of her as just one of the guys since she had started living with them.

"Bye Maureen. Be careful," Mark said quickly kissing her cheek before leading a stumbling Collins to the door. Roger and Maureen smiled and waved as the pair left the bar, holding onto each other.

"Let's go, Mo," Roger laughed, as he took Maureen's elbow and started leading her to the back room.

"Just give me a second?" she said motioning to the bathroom as he disappeared behind the grungy door into the dressing room.

Maureen stared at herself in the dirty mirror of the club bathroom. She touched the side of her cheeks, feeling how they had swelled from the food she had eaten during the day. She turned to the side, lifting her tank top to examine her stomach. If she ever planned on being with Roger, this simply wouldn't do.

She thought back to April. Where had she gone, anyway? April was thin and beautiful, and most importantly, Roger had chosen her last night. She locked the bathroom door behind her and kneeled in front of the rusty, porcelain toilet.

She watched as the peanuts, pretzels and alcohol she had just consumed swirled down with the toilet water and wiped the tears from the sides of her eyes, careful not to mess up her makeup.

She straightened her shirt and made her way back to Roger, who was none the wiser. She opened the door to find him sitting on a ratty sofa, not too different from the one in the loft, with his guitar on his lap. He passed her a beer, which she again took and ran a finger across one of the strings on the guitar.

"God, Rog, she's wasted. You're gonna have a good time with her later, eh?" Ronnie, his drummer said winking.

"No, Ron. This is my roommate, Maureen." Maureen's face again dropped in the way he said her name. Completely platonic. Roommate. Same as Mark or Collins. Roger took the bottle from her hands and took a long swig.

"Hey, gimme that," she slurred, taking it out of his hands and laughing. He put his arm around her and laughed. "I can handle my liquor boys," she said downing the rest of the bottle in a healthy swig.

"My kind of girl," Roger laughed, playing random chords on his Fender. He looked in the corner and saw a couple he didn't recognize doing lines on a small end table. He sniffed and looked back to Maureen who had her bottle tipped upside down, wondering where her drink had gone.

"Nother?" he asked. He knew that Maureen went out often with friends she had made while at NYU, but she was usually in bed by the time he came back from his gigs. She was actually fun, and matched his personality perfectly.

A joint was passed around the group as the guys improvised songs on their guitars and laughed for the next two hours, which also meant many more drinks for Roger. Maureen sat there, with her hand on his thigh, the whole time listening to stories about Roger passing out in his own vomit or being very surprised when he'd hit on a very attractive cross dresser. Maureen laughed and wondered if Collins and Mark knew this side of Roger.

He was different than what she had expected. There was no anger. Yes, he was extremely cocky and probably spent more time in the mirror than any girl she'd ever met. He was gentle, caring, and surprisingly a very fun drunk. She thought he was rough, at least from analyzing what he looked like coming back into loft in the early hours of the morning.

But then again, Maureen was different too. She wasn't loud or her usual dramatic self. She was observant and watchful, and while flirty, not obnoxious. She looked over at Roger, who was laughing loudly and engaged in a conversation with his bassist and another guy, and he was doing it all with his arm resting on her shoulder.

Soon, Roger looked around to see that it was only him and Maureen and Ronnie and his girlfriend Rae left in the room. He coughed under his breath as Ronnie lead Rae behind a sheet in the corner of the room that served as a curtain. Roger suddenly felt as if he was back in seventh grade.

"Maybe we should get going. It's almost five," Roger said leaning into Maureen's ear. She could feel the puffs of his warm breath against her neck in the air conditioned room.

She ran her finger up and down his bare arm, looking down at his hands and calloused fingers. She took his hand in her hand and smiled, leading him up off the couch. He placed his fender on the couch and allowed her to pull him up. "Let's go," she said quietly. He grabbed his guitar, put in the case, and headed out the back door.

The May air was warm, but Maureen found herself holding onto Roger for support. She was right when she said she could hold her liquor, but eight beers and a few shots with Collins later, she needed something to keep her walking straight. "Y'know," Roger started, "I didn't think you'd get along with everyone so well." He laughed when she stopped and put her hands on her hips.

"And why not?" she said with attitude.

"Because your attitude sucks," he laughed and pushed her lightly. She stumbled and he caught her by the arms to support her. "I should have figured they'd like you though. You're just like one of the guys." They both laughed happily and continued to stumble back to the loft.

Maureen leaned against the wall as Roger fumbled with the keys outside the loft. "Fuck," he muttered, trying every key on the key ring.

"Rog?" she asked quietly. He turned from his argument with the door and looked up at her brown eyes.

"Yeah, Mo?" He walked closer to her. "You ok?"

She smiled, leaning her head back against the brick of the building. "You were really great tonight. You looked amazing up there." She leaned forward, trying to walk towards him, but again tripped, landing against his chest.

In the swirl of the warm air, the alcoholic haze, and all that was Roger, Maureen soon found his warm lips against her neck, before she even had the chance to question how they had gotten there. She thought for a moment about all the other girls that had gone through the loft in the past month, never to be seen again. She thought about April. Oddly, she thought about what Mark would have thought. In the moment though, with his hot breath against her face, nothing mattered.

He pulled away for a moment, just to jiggle the key in the door. He pushed through it, Maureen following behind him. "Just one of the guys, huh?" she asked, pressing her body up against him from behind. He turned around in an instant and pushed her up against the wall of the staircase, causing her to squeal loudly in surprise.

Maureen's mind went blank as they rushed up the stairs. Roger's mouth on her neck and collar bone, pressing up against her. Once they made it through the door of the loft, Roger pushed her up against the wall and slipped his hand in the back of her jeans. She leaned back, moaning as he lifted her off the ground and kicked the door to his room shut.

Mark looked over at the clock. 5:13 am. He looked over at the empty bed next to him. No Maureen. From the sounds of it, Roger had found someone at the bar to take home. It was typical of Roger to just leave Maureen somewhere in the middle of the city, especially when she was already drunk when he left her at the bar. _I should have known better_, Mark thought as he pulled his pants on and made his way into Roger's room.

He knocked. There was panting and giggles from behind the door. "Roger, come on". More giggles and moaning. Then Mark heard what he had been dreading- _Roogggerrrr._

Maureen.

Mark couldn't even think. He burst through the door, not even thinking about what he would see on the other side. There was Roger, hovering over Maureen, naked. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his middle, her eyes closed and head back against his headboard.

Roger lifted his head, noticing the lamp in the corner of his room turn on. "Mark," he said quickly, just as Mark stormed out of the room.

Roger stumbled to put his boxers on, leaving Maureen wrapped in a sheet, breathing heavily on his bed. "I'll, be- be right back," he said breathlessly pulling up his boxers and following after Mark.

He found Mark in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with his head in his hands. Was he crying? "Mark, listen," Roger started, but stumbled over the threshold to the bathroom and laughed.

"You're drunk," Mark stated lifting his head from his hands.

"It never bothered you before," Roger said raising his voice. Roger's eyes met Mark's, and in an instant, he knew why Mark was so upset. He could see it in his eyes. Pain. God, he should have seen it before. They shared a room. Of course Mark would feel something for her. "Mark, listen. I didn't know, and we were drunk and"

"No," Mark started, "I don't want to hear it. This is unbelievable Rog, even for you." Mark shook his head and started back to his room. Roger tried to run after him but tripped over his boots.

"Go back to bed, Roger. You're a mess." Mark slammed the door, leaving Roger standing in the middle of the loft.

Maureen felt Roger climb back into bed and nuzzled up against his chest. "No," Roger said quietly, pushing her away. "Mark, he really cares about you Maureen." She nodded and slipped out of the bed, wrapping Roger's sheet around her and grabbing her jeans and shirt from the floor. "Night," he called out as she left the room, just as the sun was rising, but she was already gone.

Mark pretended not to hear Maureen slip into her bed. He pretended not to hear her ask if he was alright and apologize. He knew that if he said one word that he would cry, and he wouldn't allow her to do that to him. "Night, Marky," she whispered, pausing a moment, "I love you too, you know." He closed his eyes, imagining she didn't say it. Right now, it didn't matter.

xoxxoxooxx

That was a long chapter…but I thought it was necessary. I hope you guys liked it. Please read and review! The next chapters will be more Roger/April, Maureen/Mark/Roger, and Mark/Maureen. Reviews make me post the next chapter faster….so click the button at the bottom…

Thanks to all of you who continued to read from the last story, and to everyone who reviewed.


	3. Breaking Me Down

Thank you for the reviews of the past few chapters. Please let me know what you guys think and if you have any suggestions or ideas. I'm not done the story yet and it will probably end up being about 15 chapters or so. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Breaking Me Down

June 21, 1987

Mark looked over his paper to see Roger walking through the door of the loft. Roger hadn't been home in three days, not that Mark was overly worried. The two had never been especially close, but knew each other from Scarsdale when Roger was a year ahead of Mark in school.

"Nice of you to come home," Mark mumbled sipping back his coffee.

"Nice of you to notice," Roger retorted under his breath, "Not like you'd care anyways." And there went Roger, being his usual sarcastic and pessimistic self.

"Roger, come on. You have to talk to me sometime. Where were you? Are you in trouble?"

"What?" Roger took a deep breath and walked towards Mark as he set his newspaper down. "I already have a mother Mark, and I don't need another one. I am in trouble? Does being in a band immediately mean I'm into drugs and sleeping with prostitutes off the street?"

"No, well, I," Mark started, "I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. I worry about you sometimes."

Roger stood over the sink, pouring coffee into a mug. "You worry? Mark, it's not even like we were ever really friends." Roger immediately regretted saying that as he looked at Mark, who still sat in his chair stunned.

"Fine, Roger. Then go back to sleeping in the middle of Tompkins Square Park. See what I care. You'd still be there if it weren't for" Mark was cut off midsentence.

"If it weren't for you, right, Mark?" Roger answered back quickly. "What if you and Collins hadn't stumbled upon my sorry ass that morning? What if you didn't recognize me?" Mark squinted at his tone. How could he be so calm, yet sound so crazy and deranged. He hoped he had a point.

"You know that's not what I meant, Rog. I just don't understand why you have to be this way. It's not good for you." At this comment, Roger put his elbows on the table and his head in his hands before looking back up at Mark.

"You mean the girls and the drinking? You think that's all I am, Mark? Is that what everyone here thinks of me," he paused to take a drink of his coffee, "Collins, Maureen, even Benny? Old self destructive Roger." He laughed a little before placing his head back into his hands. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and weaker. Mark hadn't expected this. "Did you ever think that I'm this way because I have to be and not because it's what I want?"

"But it's what you chose, Roger. I don't understand."

"Well you see, Marky, Scarsdale wasn't as great to me as it was to you. Maybe I do all this stupid stuff so I don't have to be hurt again. If the girl's only there for one night, she'll never fall in love with me. I'll never break her heart. You knew what people said about my dad, Mark. You know what, you just don't get it."

"Roger," Mark reached out to touch his arm, "you'd never end up like your father. You'd never do those things." Mark then realized that he wasn't exactly sure what "those things" were. He had heard the rumors in middle school. Brian Davis beats his wife, and escapes to local bars where he charms young girls into going back to sleazy motel rooms a few towns over. The only fact that Mark knew was that one morning when Roger was 14, he and his mom woke up to find him gone. He never came back.

Roger got up from his seat without a word, not knowing whether to say 'thank you' or 'fuck off'. He turned just as he reached his room and turned to face Mark, opening his mouth as if to say something, but he didn't. The door was kicked shut.

Roger's squinted when a knock on the door woke him from his sleep. He looked at the clock. 4:42. He had been sleeping for the past few hours. Collins opened the door and sat on the bed next to Roger.

"Mark said you guys had a fight. He was just trying to help, you know." Roger had always liked Collins. From the first night in the loft, Collins had dubbed himself Roger's protector. Collins was the only one who knew about his past and reasons for leaving Scarsdale. "Roger, he was right you know. You're nothing like him. Why do you do this to yourself."

Roger's mouth curled into a grin. "Cause I'm so damn good at it."

Collins laughed. "Listen, I'm being serious. Why don't I see if I can set you up with one of my students or something? You know, a nice girl, which means not a drunken groupie." Roger stifled a laugh. The last girl Collins had brought home was Maureen, and that had turned out just great. "Or maybe not."

"We'll see, Thomas," Roger said as Collins threw an arm over the smaller boy's shoulder. "It's just that maybe I am scared."

"You think I'm not scared, Rog? I'm scared as hell. I make one mistake and now I might die. I have to live with that forever, or for however long I have left." Roger nodded and nudged Collins in the side.

"Thanks, man." Both men smiled as Collins stood up from Roger's bed.

"I know you're better than all this shit, Rog. You came here to rock, so do it." Roger flipped him off as he shut the door behind him.

Roger layed back down on the bed. Here he was, twenty two years old, living in an industrial loft in New York City. He had the Well Hungarians, but other than that, what did he have going for him? Roger found himself laughing and shaking his head, _Maybe Mark was right._

Mark was lying on the couch, talking with Maureen when Roger came out of his room a little while later. "Hey, Mark. Can we talk a sec?"

"Ohhh, the plot thickens," Maureen said in a dramatic voice from the floor.

"Oh, shut up," Roger laughed as he and Mark walked out onto the fire escape. "So, um, Mark, I just wanted to say sorry for earlier." Roger shifted on his feet. Mark tried not to laugh. In the seven months that Roger had been living in the loft, he had never once apologized for anything. Mark had always thought that Roger was a good enough guy, but certainly not one to ever show emotions.

"Hey, listen. It's fine. Really. I shouldn't have brought up all that stuff."

"Well you were right." Suddenly Roger bit back a laugh, "You don't have your camera, do you? I wouldn't want that to get out."

"Very funny, Rog."

"Anyways, I was thinking. Maybe you'd wanna do something tonight. I mean, we've never really been out just us. It's a great night, warm and stuff. We can go listen to a band or I don't know, do things you like to do since I'm always dragging you to my gigs." Roger smiled hopefully. For the first time in a long time, he felt good. He felt cared about.

"Oh, well tonight isn't great. Maureen and I were sort of going out tonight. There's some movie playing that I wanted to see, but yeah, Rog. It'd be great to hang out."

"Come on, man. Let's get back inside. We sound like a couple of chicks. We'll go out drinking this weekend. Maybe I can kick your ass in some pool. Go get ready for your date."

"Well, it's not exactly a date," Mark thought out loud. _Was it a date? Did she think it was a date?_

"Mark, this is Maureen we're talking about. It's definitely a date." Roger laughed and pulled Mark back inside.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you came along, Rog," he said hoping he hadn't made him mad by ruining his plans.

"Nah, you go out. Show her a good time. I'm going to grab some coffee." Roger slipped his boots on and was out the door before Mark had the chance to say anything back.

Roger walked down the streets of Alphabet City talking to himself. _It's fine, Roger. You're happy, aren't you. Think of how many guys would kill to get half the girls you get. You're in a great band. Yes, you're happy. _

Roger paused. Was he really happy or was he just trying to convince himself that he was alright? Why had what Mark said bothered him so much earlier? Roger sighed as he entered to small coffee shop.

Roger looked at the pay phone and dialed the number of the only person, other than Collins, who understood everything. Alison Grey.

Alison had lived two towns over from Roger when they were in high school. His mother worked as an assistant for her mother when the two were younger and she had been there for him when his father left. He knew that Alison's father was in real estate and was completely surprised when he learned that Mr. Grey owned the loft. He was even more surprised to find that his roommate, Benny, was seeing her.

Roger couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealous. They had never dated seriously, but she had given Roger his first kiss when he was fourteen. She was there during the hard times. She knew everything.

_Roger threw a twenty dollar bill at the cab driver, not bothering to collect his change as he ran to the door of the large white house. He leaned against the large white pillar, catching his breath and wiping at his eyes._

"_Oh Mr. Davis," Mrs. Grey said, "Alison is in her bedroom. Knock first, though. She just got back from ballet."_

_Roger ran up the stairs and flung the door open. There stood Alison in her bathrobe, long blonde hair wet from her shower. Her pink tights were still thrown across her bed. "Sorry," he muttered before closing it and leaning against the wall outside her room._

"_Rog," she whispered. She opened the door and pulled him inside. _

_He sat on the bed. "He left. He just picked up and left. That bastard didn't even leave a note." Alison sat beside him and rubbed his back as he let out sobs. _

"_It'll be okay, Rog. Shhh," he looked at her as she brushed a tear from his face. "You guys are better off with out him. He can't hurt you anymore."_

"_But my mom, Alison. She's so hurt. I don't know what to do," he sobbed freely into the terry cloth of her robe._

"_She'll be ok. You both will be." She lifted his face from her shoulder, brushing his dirty blonde hair out of his face. "You have me." _

_She smiled as he collapsed into her shoulder as she soothed him again, rubbing his back, as he choked back his sobs. He lifted his head and looked at her again. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."_

"_Anytime, Roger. You know that." He pulled her into a hug. As they pulled away Roger felt her lips brush against his cheek and drag to the corner of his mouth. "It's okay, Roger," she murmured as her lips brushed against his. He closed his eyes tight, trying to remember the last time he felt self. He found himself moving his lips, kissing her back lightly, as if a thank you. They both smiled._

Roger watched as Alison walked through the door of the coffee shop. He hadn't really spoken with her in the last few months since she and Benny had moved in together. She had always promised that she would never be like her parents, and here she was, living off her parents' money with her boyfriend. It didn't matter right now. He needed her.

"Hey there stranger," she called as she mad her way to the counter. He kissed her cheek.

"You look really good, Alison." Roger said before leaning back in his chair.

"What's the matter, Roger? I know you wouldn't just call me out of nowhere after calling me a lapdog to catch up."

"Well," he laughed, "I don't actually know why I called. I mean, I do. Mark and I started talking about my reckless behavior," he rolled his eyes, "and he brought up my dad. Do you think I'm like him?"

"Rog, of course not. You'd never be like him," she smiled, knowing how much Roger's dad leaving had hurt him.

"That's what Mark said too."

"Well he's right, you know." She smiled at his as he leaned back on the legs of his chair. He put his hands behind his head and had a satisfied grin on his face, but suddenly fell backwards, into a waitress.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Let me get that." He reached down picking up the mug from the floor and using her dishtowel to wipe the coffee off her apron.

"No, really, it's fine," she said as she looked down at him. "Roger?" she said quietly, not sure if it was really him.

He looked up to meet her eyes and was surprised. "April," he said nervously. Alison looked back and forth between the two, their eyes dancing with each other, unsure of what to say. She smiled and tapped Roger on the shoulder, letting him know that she was leaving, but he didn't look up.. She laughed to herself as she went back out into the warm June air. _Oh Rog, will you never learn? _She looked back inside to see Roger and the waitress sitting by the counter, taking a piece of paper from the young girl as she smiled into her shoulder. _Listen to Mark, Roger. It could be good for you._

Xoxoxoxo

It was a little bit of a boring chapter, but necessary. I wanted to stress that at this point Mark and Roger aren't as close as they are during RENT and show how they got that way. I think my Roger seems a like OOC here, but I wanted to show how he was young and vulnerable and not as indestructible as he thinks.

Reviews are amazing and I love knowing what you guys are thinking!


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